The Deep End
by Angelic Temptress
Summary: Huntress realizes that she matters. Little bit of HQ!


"The Deep End"

The Angelic Temptress

Disclaimer: Those you know probably aren't my property

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: None

A/N: Thanks Missy.

A/N2: Could be placed somewhere after my fic "I'd Kill 4 a Redhead" and Merlin Missy's "Chrism, Salt, Water."

Warning: Kind of fluffy. H/Q. Wee!

Huntress was tired.

It was almost four on a Saturday morning.

Virtually insignificant snowflakes began to fall as she walked along the edge of the rooftop, peering into the abandoned alleys below her. Though her sleep-deprived body yearned for her sheets, she disregarded her desires and continued her watch.

Her intuition told Huntress she wasn't finished for the evening. It had been too busy of a night to turn in now.

Several criminals had the courtesy to wait until _after _the holidays to spread chaos through Gotham City this year. It was a week since the New Year, and they probably wanted to start 2006 in the right direction.

Huntress heard a faint grunt come from her left. She froze. When she heard another, she quietly raced to the next building's roof and looked down into the lane.

Two boys were beating another, all three probably in their twenties.

The one wearing a GSU football jacket held the thinnest boy as his partner continuously punched him. The second coward wore a leather aviator jacket.

She couldn't use her crossbow, although wounding the spineless college pricks would be the highlight of her night. Instead, she latched a grapple hook to the ledge and lowered herself into the alleyway behind the jock. Neither attacker noticed her entrance.

Huntress carefully pulled her collapsible staff from her belt and positioned her body into a fighting stance. With a slightly seductive undertone, she announced her presence.

"Oh boys? Don't you want someone a bit more appetizing to pick on?"

The jock dropped the thin boy before he turned to face her. Both Aviator and Jock stared with gaping mouths. Once the sight of her registered in their stupefied minds, they turned to run.

"Damn. No fun." Instead of simply throwing a bola, she decided to chase after the duo. When she got close enough, she flipped over them and landed cleanly to stop the boys in their tracks.

Jock was the first to attack, and she quickly immobilized him by tripping him and then hitting his Adam's apple with the end of her stick. She slapped the other upside the head with her staff and knocked him into the brick wall. He slid to his knees, groaning.

"How does it feel to be beaten by a woman, you –" _Shit!_

Aviator struck her with a discarded tire iron, and she was sure she heard _and felt_ a rib break. The boy received a few painful blows to his arms, which in turn caused him to drop the tire iron. She ended with a hit to the chest, and Aviator crashed into the dumpster behind him.

After quickly restraining the idiots who had caused so much unneeded trouble, Huntress approached the victim while clutching her side. He sat up straight against the wall and greeted her with a forced smile.

"This is such an honor." His smile quickly faded. "You're hurt. You've probably got broken a rib."

"Don't worry about it," she assured and helped the man to his feet even though her upper body hated her for it. "Are you all right?"

"I'll live." He wiped his bloody lip with the back of his hand. "It's not the first time I've been unfairly jumped."

Her eyes slightly narrowed. "Do you have any idea why these jackasses would want to hurt you?"

"Because I'm a homosexual," he snapped. "Like I said, it wasn't the first time."

"I'm sorry."

"That I'm gay?"

Her jaw clenched. "That they're ignorant scum."

"Don't worry about it," he mimicked and touched his torso. He swallowed hard and let out a heavy breath. "Thank you."

She took a second to consider his words. "Just be sure to report this to the police. They'll be here, waiting to be arrested." Huntress turned away from the blonde man and started for the opposite end of the alley.

"Huntress?" he called after her. When she glanced back at him, he added, "You were always my favorite. Vigilante, I mean. Sure, you're a little rough around the edges and all, but your judgment is dead on. What you did for those girls a couple of months ago… It was… It was the right thing to do."

Knowing he was referring to the latest of the Gotham serial killers, she nodded and continued on her way.

A smile couldn't help creeping onto her lips.

A quarter after eight was too early.

Helena swallowed a couple of painkillers with her morning coffee as Question entered her apartment. She had to remember to send Leslie a card or flowers before the month was over. The doctor had been patching Huntress up frequently lately.

"What happened to you?" He slowly rushed over to her and touched her face before examining the giant bandage around her ribcage.

"One broken. Two bruised."

"How?"

"Tire iron."

"Ow."

"Yeah." She kissed his forehead and then drank more of her hot coffee. As he poured himself a mug, she informed him of last night's events.

"Busy one."

"Post-holiday stuff, you know." She thought briefly before speaking again. "I received a 'Thank You' from the kid I helped. He told me that I was his favorite vigilante and that I made the right choice when I eliminated that monster."

"You're appreciated, Helena." Question pulled off his wrinkled hat and loosened his tie. "Not everyone thinks like the Bat and his clan."

"It's a strange feeling."

"What is?"

"Being thanked. It's like, something inside…" Helena caught herself. "Oh jeez. You almost went therapist on me."

"No."

"Oh yes. You think I'd fall for some dim-witted trap like that? You've got another thing coming." Helena finished her coffee and then poured herself another cup. As she did, she stared at Q from the corner of her eye and tried to guess what his facial expression might have been under that face plate.

He didn't say a word, making it more difficult to imagine.

She sighed. "Okay. Go ahead. Get all Freudian on me."

"Freud was a quack," Question said. "His oversimplified theories were created to convince people that they are selfish, sexually driven animals with no level of intelligence whatsoever. Humans would then never advance because –"

Helena raised a hand to silence him and tilted her head to one side. "But aren't we sexually driven animals?"

"You're changing the subject so you don't have to share your feelings," he accused.

"Fine," she muttered. "Genuine gratitude from that guy felt really good. I don't get that. I mean, I don't need it or really want it. I'm not seeking approval or anything."

Question nodded. "I know."

"But… someone like that helps you remember why you do what you do. You realize that there are good people who care." Helena set her blue mug on the counter and moved to be held by her boyfriend. "The first thing he said to me was that it was an honor to meet me."

"And the second?"

"Well, he was more worried about my injury than his own."

Q ran his fingers through her thick hair. "So, a complete stranger cared enough to ask if you were all right."

"Yeah…"

"And this made you happy." Question paused, and Helena raised an eyebrow.

With a hint of a smile in his voice, he said, "No matter what the _Gazette_ claims, you do have a heart of gold."

She couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculous statement. "A heart of _gold_?"

"Afraid so."

They both chuckled and finished their morning coffee in soothing silence.

END


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